


To Impress

by Everett_Harte, sku7314977



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Chilton is secretly a huge gossip, Dark Will, Domestic arguing, Fight between killers, Fighting, Flirting, Hannibal plots against Matthew, Hannigram - Freeform, Hospital Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Manipulation, Misunderstandings, Pass it on, Porn, Possessive Hannibal, Possessive Matthew, Sex, Smut, Some Romance, We wrote the thing, and it was great, boyfriend stealing, eventual murder husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everett_Harte/pseuds/Everett_Harte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sku7314977/pseuds/sku7314977
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chilton invites Matthew to a soiree after a work incident as his plus one to pay the orderly back for saving his life, Matt invites his new boyfriend Will and Hannibal decides that he would very much like to get to know Matt's boyfriend a little better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet and Greet

**Author's Note:**

> Hello darlings, sku here, this is my and Everett_Harte's first collaboration together and hopefully it will be the first of many more~<3
> 
> A big thanks to everyone who decided to click the little read button and give this story a while, we hope not to disappoint! 
> 
> We don't own Hannibal, though we'd love to try his cooking. ;D
> 
> Not Beta Read.

There wasn’t a lot that Will had that he couldn’t live without. He’d learned that growing up; the more things you held onto, the harder they were to let go of later. Usually when he had to move, he couldn't take much more than a bag of clothes with him.

It was harder still when he learned it expanded to people as well, girlfriends and boyfriends slow to come but quick to go, the death of his father cut away the last of his attachments with ease. It wasn’t until later in life, when he finally tried therapy, that Will discovered he had an empathy disorder. Though it had helped him understand why he hurt so deeply, even when it wasn’t his own pain, it did little to alleviate his fear and anxiety. The doctors assisting him more interested in studying the peculiarities of his brain then assisting him in finding a way to live comfortably within the confines of society.

The diagnosis did make it easier for Will to close himself off though; a safeguard he decided on to protect himself from the overwhelming ocean of emotions that flooded him from daily interaction. It was lonely, but easy, and such few things were easy anymore for Will Graham.

So when Matthew Brown stepped into his life, he was a pleasantry Will had never expected.

He had been hastily called away from teaching his class on psychoanalysis to take apart the murder scene at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Will had interviewed Abel Gideon after a seemingly familiar murder, the death of a nurse performed in the style of the Chesapeake Ripper’s ‘Wound Man’

It hadn’t taken him more than a couple of minutes at the scene to visualize it, the swing of a pendulum reverting the blood drenched floors and skewered body to a woman working on her patient amid the pristine bleach scented tile of an operating room. Stepping into the place of the killer, from the palmed fork tine to impaling the nurse with disassembled IV stands, he found every flaw of the killing that would reveal it as the counterfeit it was. Will knew the Ripper better then he knew himself and had no quarrel letting Dr. Chilton know exactly how wrong he truly was.

It was during his time spent at the hospital that Will came in contact with the orderly Matthew Brown. He was polite, respectful and completely enamored with Will from the moment he’d laid eyes on him for reasons Will couldn't quite fathom. The adoration was strange to experience from anyone, never mind from a stranger. Will was more used to hesitance or disgust.

So as Matthew made polite passes looking for his attention, Will made a point of keeping his focus on that of his work. As he was led back to the Administrator's office, he kept his gaze firmly focused on Chilton’s back instead of Matthew’s face.

The only reasonable explanation Will was able to assume was that the orderly found him interesting, something he wasn’t used to unless dealing with those that wanted to study his rather peculiar mind.

The argument with Chilton all but confirmed Will’s suspicion that Abel Gideon had been a careful construct. He left with only minimal fuss from Chilton after a quick and meaningful threat to expose his psychic driving for what it was. In Will’s book that made for a good day. But before he made it out the building, Matthew found him one last time, slipping his number into Will’s pocket as they passed each other in the hall. It was unexpected, much like the hopeful smile that was cast to him over the orderly’s shoulder when he pulled out the folded piece of paper to see the tight writing of name and digits.

Will wondered if it was bad for him to want something easy for a change. After his crash and burn with Alana Bloom, one of the first and only times he had actively tried for a relationship, he was thinking that maybe easy was exactly what he needed.

Surprising himself more than the man on the other end of the line, Will dialed the number before he made it into the drive of his home in Wolf Trap, Virginia. And unexpectedly, Will Graham found himself dating Matthew Brown.

OoOoO

“Would you explain to me again how you managed to get an invitation to a dinner party with _Frederick Chilton_?” Will asked as he adjusted his tie in the bathroom mirror of his boyfriend’s apartment, a concept Will still had trouble swallowing in correlation with himself.

Matt grinned, wide and lopsided as he came up behind the beautiful man he’d somehow managed to score. “He said something a little too insulting while standing a little too close to one of the cages.” He tugged Will back against him, encompassing his tapered waist with long lean arms. “One of the inmates came a little too close to killing him for the good doctors liking.” He pressed a kiss to the special agent’s cheek, enjoying the rough press of scruff against his lips, “I pried them off before they could put him out of our misery.”

“I understand why you’re being punished. I don’t understand why I’m being punished.” Will turned, stealing a kiss of his own, the scar of Matt’s lip a pleasant break in the soft flesh of their kiss.

The orderly laughed, “Because you’re my boyfriend and Doctor Chilton doesn’t like owing people favors. He’s invited me to a private dinner at a colleague’s house. His ‘plus-one’ or something.” His dipped his head, running a hot mouth over the pallor of throat left visible by his beautiful profiler. “Come with me, sit in awkward silence through one dinner party with the bastard and I’ll more than make it worth your while.”

Will hummed his consideration, a trail of goose bumps rising along in flesh in the hot mouth's wake, “That thing with your tongue?” He already knew he’d suffered defeat. It was one dinner and it meant the world to Matthew to make an appearance at something so high standing with his boss. _Why_? Will would never understand, but in trying to maintain his first successful relationship in longer than he'd like to admit, he was willing to be supportive and attend.

“As much as you want,” Matthew sucked the lobe of his ear between too sharp teeth, tugging the flesh with a salacious nip.

“God damn-it,” Will cursed, he hadn’t even finished getting dressed and already he was regretting going. “More than ten words out of Chilton and I’m gone.”

Matthew laughed, “Maybe try talking to the host. He's some guy Chilton loves to hate.”

OoOoO

When they met with Chilton it was outside what Will would only ever describe as a mini-mansion in an area reserved for Baltimore’s elite. The profiler felt his stomach give another painful twist at the thought of spending any amount of his evening trapped in the extravagant home, especially with one very irritated Doctor Frederick Chilton. He was checking his watch as they pulled onto the street.

Will knew Chilton's irritation was exaggerated before setting foot out of the car. They weren’t late, well, terribly late. Five minutes late wasn't too bad. Chilton had requested Matt’s arrival fifteen minutes early, as if he was arriving for a shift. Matt had planned to respect Chilton's instructions, but had inevitably found himself rewarding his boyfriend for agreeing to join him with a taste of things to come.

Will felt his cheeks flush with the ghost sensation of a too skilled tongue tracing his rim. He had to switch to thinking of his dogs to ward off the inevitable hard-on that would come if he continued catering to his imagination.

Getting out of the car Matt tossed Will the keys to lock up while he jogged ahead to greet his anxious boss. Will figured he shouldn’t be held responsible for dragging his feet a bit; why rush to something he was going to be miserable at? As he got closer, he couldn’t help but hear the harsh whispers of reprimand being cast to his boyfriend which suddenly stopped when Chilton spotted him.

“No. No, no, no. Dr. Lecter is very strict with his invitations and your boyfriend isn’t invited.” Will was happy to think the man was still bitter about his threat to his career. Good. He liked it that way. He might just make it out of this shit show.

As Will stepped closer, further into the golden glow of the porch light, Chilton suddenly changed his tune; a look of recognition and delight capturing his features. It was just Will’s luck that the man hadn’t recognized him in a suit. And he’d been so hopeful toward a delightful night of bickering.

“Evening Dr. Chilton, sorry for the misunderstanding. I’ll just head out and pick up Matt later.” Will tried for a quick escape with the doctor's words as his exiting cue. It would be his last chance for retreat.

Turning on his heel, he wasn’t fast enough to escape Chilton’s splutter, “Now, let’s not be hasty! I hadn’t realized what company Matthew was keeping. You two leave Dr. Lecter to me; we’re old friends. And I’m quite certain you can make it up to me, maybe with a private appointment some afternoon?”

Matthew looked between the two of them, hopeful expression peeking through. Will wasn’t going to let himself be studied, there wasn’t enough tongue in the world to let the kite fly, and he was more than sure the dead look he was casting spoke of that truth in volumes. “That’s alright, I really don’t have the time to schedule anything,” Will quipped still trying to find a last minute way out.

Chilton didn’t seem anymore detoured, “Don’t be so quick Mr. Graham, we can discuss that more at the party. Come as my guest and just let me introduce you to a few people.” He looked around wildly for a moment before remembering Matthew, “Your boyfriend,” He suddenly included the contemplating orderly, “He’s looking forward to it, you can see it on his face.”

Sadly that wasn’t a lie. Will could see it, that tense look of Matt’s jaw, a habit of worrying at his lip when he was unsure he would get what he wanted, but not wanting to press. He was terribly accommodating most of the time, at times too much.

With a sigh, he offered up a grin that he hoped didn’t look too strained before nodding, “Alright.”

Chilton’s winning smile and quick rap on the large double doors assured Will he was going to regret it.

But the hand that came up to grasp his own and the smile that greeted him, wide and crooked in thanks on his boyfriend’s face was almost reassuring. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad?

Matt leaned whispering so the warmth of his breath ghosted over Will’s ear as they patiently waited for the heavy door to swing open. “I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue and fingers.”

He felt a blush creep up his face just as the door opened.

As they stepped into the house Matt gripped the hand already starting to sweat within his own a little tighter, “I might need to google something new.” He conceded, sparing a half smile to the bundle of anxiety at his side. They stepped into a house party far larger than the intimate dinner party Chilton had described. He was getting the sinking feeling that his boss had meant to overwhelm him. By making him uncomfortable in the rich surroundings, he might have left early and the doctor would not have to be seen with a lesser man.

Instead, the desired effect was taking its toll on his boyfriend. He felt Will go ridged under his hand as they stepped into the small ocean of people filling the grand house. It was a soiree.

“I don’t want to be here.” Will murmured quietly as a handsome man in the ugliest suit he’d ever laid eyes on shook Frederick’s hand with a casual, _fake_ , smile.

“Doctor Chilton, a pleasure to see you, I’m glad you could make it.” His jacket was taken by hired help, a man dressed in the black and white of a traditional server. “Might I inquire the name of your friends?” Will followed the curve of his mouth, eyes avoiding the pools of deep maroon that focused so intently on him. He wondered if he’d heard him complain.

“Ah, yes I do apologize, I know your invitation said ‘one’ but they came as a couple.” He touched Will’s shoulder as though they were old friends and he was the one invited as his ‘plus one’ instead of the orderly standing by his side. “You’re familiar with Will Graham are you not?” He practically preened, a peacock dancing with tail feathers fanned hoping to gain some attention. 

The stranger's smile warmed to something far more honest, “I am familiar with his work though I’ve never had the privilege to make his acquaintance.” A lie Will could read, but what portion and how much he wasn’t sure; a lie shrouded by truth was often the hardest to detect. “You wrote the standard monograph on ‘ _Time of Death By Insect Activity’_.” He took Will’s hand, palm dry but warm against Will’s sweaty own in a firm but welcoming shake.

This man was trying to meet his elusive eyes. Still unsettled by the lie he had identified, Will kept his gaze fleeting.

“And you must be his partner,” Will wasn’t willing to meet those bloody eyes, but Matt was and did, noting the way they had lingered on his boyfriend. He was enamored by him as Matt had been when first they’d met. He let his hand slide farther around Will’s waist, settling on the swell of his hip to pull the profiler tighter against him as he took the offered hand. Hannibal wasn’t the only lion in the room.

“That’s right, Matthew Brown. Doctor Chilton invited me as his guest after saving his life from one of the eager inmates.” If Chilton was going to toss him to the side he was going to make damn sure he took the snake with him. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I brought Will along with me.”

There was a challenge being passed between them as they shook hands and smiled with false greetings, one Will didn’t entirely understand but didn’t miss.

“Of course not, the more the merrier.”

With a polite smile and nod Matthew led his boyfriend, one hand settled firmly around his waist, away from the doctor and toward the tables set to the side. Hannibal would be lying if he said the arrival of the FBI special agent hadn’t caught him by surprise. Though he was more than well aware of William Graham, he had never thought he would have the chance to meet the man in person.

OoOoO

Hannibal had always appreciated punctuality, more so than those that tried to be fashionably late. Those particular individuals tended to end up fashionably presented on a platter for dinner guests, punctual in their roasting time.

So when he’d opened the door later than the invitation had clearly stated, he wondered if he might entice the arrival to seat themselves in the roasting pot and save him the trouble. He hadn’t expected the small group that stood in greeting on the other side. Curious, he had welcomed Chilton first, keeping civil in the face of tardiness as he looked upon the other two unexpected guests.

He could admit that it was only years of good manners that let him greet his guest cordially by rote. Will Graham was before him, trademark glasses perfectly in place. He had followed _Tattle Crime_ extensively after Abel Gideon was proclaimed the Ripper. Will Graham’s involvement had quickly ended the farce, before he could fully act to show Jack Crawford how foolish it was to prod a monster.

For once, Frederick Chilton was doing something useful. Hannibal had been intrigued by the profiler featured frequently in _Tattle Crime_ while chasing gruesome crime scenes for a number of months. His curiosity had turned to a genuine interest after Will had been able to identify and declare Gideon’s murder scene an imitation with little more than a look.

To know the Ripper deeply enough to truly understand the art which he created, no matter how accurate the replication, was enticing.

So when he was forced to usher in not only Will Graham but his current partner as well, it was with a forced hand that he offered chivalry to a man he deemed beneath the mind of the one he escorted. Unbeknownst to the profiler being led into the field of bleating sheep, his companion cast one last look back in warning to the only lion in the room. Matthew may have thought himself a predator, but he had stumbled into the path of something far worse.

He wanted to pursue Will Graham perhaps as much as Chilton did, prod at the strange profiler's mind and see what he could make come out of the shadows. But first, he needed to find out more about this relationship he appeared to be in.

“Doctor Chilton, I’m glad to see you could make it. I thought perhaps you’d be too busy to join me with containing the Abel Gideon incident. I am delighted to see I was wrong, and with your companions as well.” If he knew this doctor as well as he thought, he would jump at the opportunity to change topics from his latest misstep to keep in Hannibal’s good books.

Chilton quickly grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server before taking a fortifying sip. “Yes, well, lucky Will Graham was able to straighten it out. In fact, did you know he met Matthew at the hospital while investigating? From the way the nurses talk, it was love at first sight.”

Hannibal gave a tight smile, “Lovely.” He grabbed a glass of wine before the server left.

“They’ve been dating for a few weeks and it’s frankly shocking to see a man of Will’s…skill set, be able to engage in such a normal romantic relationship. It brings up all sorts of questions with the depths of his empathy and whether he is truly himself or becomes who his partner needs.” Chilton sipped at his champagne before adding, “But I suppose one would have to ask Mr. Graham about that to be sure.”

That was something Hannibal had never entertained, a partner that could subconsciously be influenced. The possibilities of pure empathy were intriguing. Before he could steer the conversation once more, he heard Chilton chuckle.

Following his line of sight, he saw the awkward meeting of Alana Bloom and Will Graham. There was nothing overtly strange in their body language as they stood near a table laden with appetizers. Both appeared nearly too calm, too formal with each other with smiles that offered no warmth. The tell was clearly Matthew, who edged closer in between the two, keeping that wide grin that looked more a baring of teeth than remotely friendly.

She excused herself and made her way over, looking tired she still offered a slight smile to both men. Chilton was quick to jump into conversation. “Dr. Bloom, so nice of you to join us. I couldn’t help but notice you taking an interest in Will Graham; I heard my nurses buzzing just the other day about you rejecting him. Do you regret that now? Seeing how well he’s doing in a relationship?”

If looks could kill Chilton would have been six feet under with the shovel he’d dug it with stuffed up his ass. As it was, the group all glanced to the other side of the room, taking in the picture of Matthew and Will quietly talking with champagne flutes in hand.

Alana sighed, glancing away from the couple, “I don’t regret it, and I stand by my decision. Quite frankly, I think his job is bad for his mental health and Jack Crawford is pushing him too hard.” She glanced toward another area, one with the before mentioned man standing with a number of judges in discussion. “Will isn’t stable as long as he keeps looking into the minds of these killers. He’s losing pieces of himself to their influence. And each time he looks, I’m not sure he’s only coming back as Will Graham.”

Mr. Graham was undoubtedly getting more intriguing as the night went on. “I’m certain dear Will is only doing what he thinks is best. He sees it as helping others with his gift and I can’t begrudge him that victory.”

She laughed, touching Hannibal’s arm lightly, “You sound just like him; he says at least he’s saving lives.” Alana smirked, almost playfully before adding, “You know, you met him once before in my office. Now I’m wondering what you two got up to after I left.” Another quiet laugh escaped her as he took in Hannibal’s look of surprise.

For once he didn’t have to feign shock. He had met Will in passing, dropping off case studies to Alana, a brief encounter that he could barely recall. Before he could respond, the beautiful brunette was called away by several of her colleagues, giving a quick nod to both men, she left to make her rounds.

Chilton arched a brow, “So you’ve met Will Graham before?”

Glancing back toward the couple, he watched as Matthew Brown slid his hand scandalously low along Will’s back.

Returning his gaze to Chilton, he was struck with the most marvelous idea, and who better to tell than the man with the favorite past time of gossiping with nurses?

It was almost a challenge to contain his delight. Hiding the pull of lips behind the lip of his wine glass, he began, “You could certainly say we’re _familiar_ with each other,” he took a modest sip of wine, allowing a certain dramatic effect to play upon the word as gears turned to form untrue assumptions in the eager doctors mind.

“You don’t say?” He turned his gaze from Hannibal to the introvert standing across the room; he looked so out of place in the renowned doctor's home Chilton could hardly imagine such a scandal taking place. “It’s hard to believe that you would find yourself enjoying such company, he’s a brilliant mind, one I’d love to sink my claws into, but his social skills leave something to be desired.”

If Chilton had claws then Hannibal had talons carved from iron swords and bloody bones, his smile danced wider, eyes stealing a lustful glance toward the profiler as he hid behind another sip, “He leaves nothing to be desired, not after he’d finished.” A playful glance to seal the accusing look he’d gained and he was gone, sauntering into the crowd to address another guest and allow the planted seed to grow.

Joining in the friendly give and take of discussion with another associate, one who’s company was always better appreciated than the previous doctor's, he allowed Chilton to work his charm. The doctor cast glancing looks in his and Will’s direction as he spoke in hushed tones to anyone standing close enough to hear.

It had already begun, the seed taking root and beginning to sprout. It was only a matter of time until it bloomed.

OoOoO

TBC


	2. Jealous Acts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the rumor spreads Matt begins to wonder how much truth is sitting behind it. After a fight between the orderly and profiler Will looks for some reprieve and stumbles upon a room he shouldn't be in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darlings~<3
> 
> We would like to send a big thank you to everyone reading the story and leaving kudos on the chapters and an even bigger thank you to the few leaving comments~<3
> 
> Onto the story! 
> 
> We own nothing.
> 
> Beta'd by us.

“People keep looking at me,” Will complained from where he stood, more behind than next to a house plant. He would have prayed for an aneurysm if the act of a sudden and painless death wouldn’t have called more attention to his person.

Matthew didn’t seem to mind the array of looks being cast their way; just as laid back with a glass of champagne in hand as he was with a beer on Will’s deck. Will thought the other man’s calm demeanor a result of his place of work. Once you worked in a mental ward for the criminally insane it was probably difficult to feel self-conscious about much of anything. “Relax Will, no one’s looking and if they are, it’s only because they know how brilliant you are.” He pressed a warming kiss to the corner of his boyfriend's mouth.

Despite his efforts, Will didn’t find any reassurance in the other man’s words. Not when there were too many eyes focused on him with hushed whispers passing through the crowd. He wondered if any of the socialites were followers of _Tattle Crime_ and his infamy with the firey haired journalist was catching up to him.

“I think I’m gonna go,” Will decided as an indulgent smile was cast his way. He didn’t even want to guess what atrocity they’d read about to gain such reactions from the other guests.

“We just got here,” Matt tried to reason with him, “please, just a little while longer.” He was desperate, “An hour, give me an hour and we can go.”

Unamused stormy eyes turned to sandy brown. “One hour?” There was a nod, a hopeful half smile tugging at his mangled lips. Will could read how much this meant to him and honestly for all that he put up with Will’s quirky personality, didn’t he owe the man that much at least? “Alright,” He succumbed, “One hour.” He wished it was less.

Matt met him in another kiss, firm and grateful against Will’s full lips. “Thank you, I’ll make it up to you. You won’t regret this.”

“I will regret this but you can start making it up to me by finding me another drink, preferably something stronger.” He didn’t quite ask, handing off his empty glass to a too eager boyfriend, the younger man disappearing with two empty champagne flutes in search of more.

Hannibal watched as the eager boy disappeared with empty glasses in hand, it was time for him to make another move and set the gears in motion. With two glasses of expensive scotch in hand, he approached the apprehensive man longing for reprieve.

“Macallan, 50 year vintage,” a familiar voice announced, startling Will as a glass of rich amber liquid was offered to him.

He glanced at their host for the evening, unsure how to respond to the generous offer. He accepted the vintage with a weak smile, “Thank you, but why are you giving this to me?”

The doctor smirked, the barest pull of lips, allowing the profiler to read more than perhaps anyone else might. “You appear apprehensive, I thought you might appreciate it; something a bit stronger than champagne to survive the evening.”

He couldn’t find any fault with that logic.

Accepting the glass, Will gave it a quick swirl to watch well aged scotch cling to the crystal tumbler's sides before sampling its heady scent with a sniff; his attempt to show their host he wasn’t completely uncouth. The effort appeared to be appreciated by Hannibal who joined him in sampling the scent of his own glass before sipping. Will was surprised by the smoothness the beverage provided, lacking the usual harsh bite he experienced with his preferred blended whiskey. He didn’t know much about good scotch, but the smoky taste was something he more than enjoyed.

Will met those maroon eyes for a brief moment, catching within their depths a spark he had only even noticed before in Matthew’s; a light of interest that had his cheeks heating past the warmth provided by good alcohol to something still too new for the profiler to fathom.

“It’s good, thank you,” he managed the words before stormy eyes darted away. There was so much more hidden beneath that spark, a lightning storm of emotion he didn’t want to decipher; a curse of his mind that he could already read too much without the added aid.

He decided it best to stick with social etiquette.  

“Sorry about Matthew and me crashing your soiree.” He hoped this smile seemed more genuine than the last, “Chilton made it seem more…casual when he invited us. You’ve been rather gracious through our rudeness, thank you.”

A soft laugh was the acceptance of Will’s polite amends, the doctor looking pleased for having received an apology though the mistake had been no fault of Will’s. “Well, when one deals with Frederick Chilton, rudeness has a tendency of occurring with surprising frequency.”

Will took another sip, briefly wondering the cost of the spirit ghosting over his uncultured pallet, “Yes, he does have that effect.” He smiled, enjoying a more familiar territory of conversation than that of his surroundings, “Especially when it comes to his career,” he scoffed, “more recently the disaster with Abel Gideon and the Ripper.”

“I heard you had a hand in disproving Chilton’s theory of Abel Gideon.” A feat most impressive, the replica had been so close, “I wonder how you discovered he was not in fact the Ripper.”  

Will wasn’t the most social person in the world, but he was positive there was some unwritten rule somewhere stating that discussing murder cases at a soiree was considered bad manners. Then again, the investigation was closed and it was the host inquiring.

Stormy eyes turned toward the other party guests, his focus falling on nothing as he thought back to a floor soaked in blood, “The murder of the nurse had the same _modus operandi_ , but lacked the finesse of the Ripper. It was too pedestrian to recreate a past kill; the Ripper thrives on originality and his theatrical tableaus. He elevates his victims, transforming them from raw materials into magnificent displays.” It was a good thing that those beautiful storm grey eyes had turned astray, or they might have seen the blowing pupils of the monster standing at his side, “They don’t deserve to live, yet die as something to be remembered. It’s an art form to the Ripper and Abel Gideon was too tasteless to be him.” He scoffed, turned his sight back to the glass in hand and the remaining golden liquid at its base, “A cheap imitation.”

There was a beat of silence that alerted Will that perhaps he went too far. He was maybe as tactless as Abel Gideon to bring up the beauty of a crime scene to a psychiatrist; especially one that knew Chilton. Realizing belatedly that he would probably write a paper on the peculiarities of this conversation alone, Will tilted his glass, taking a deeper drink of the scotch that slid too smooth down his throat as he swallowed. He prepared to move off, find Matt and hide for the rest of the hour before he made a further mockery of himself.

Teeth clenched, he expected the worst from the doctor. Chancing one last glance toward Hannibal before he made his great escape, he saw the first genuine emotion to grace the older man’s face; a surprisingly soft smile pulling thin lips in the slightest of curves. But still, there lay something in those eyes, bright maroon pools that shook him to the core, they watched him now with more intent than before.

“The FBI is lucky to have such a gifted profiler to aid their investigations.” He wanted to crawl inside Will’s mind and see the beauty of the Ripper through the eyes of one able to understand him, “You perhaps saved more lives by revealing the farce before the true Ripper could retaliate.”

Will felt the return of his blush with the comment as a heat crept across his cheekbones. He knew he did good work, but very few times in his career was he appreciated for what he did rather than the results he could provide. He ducked his head, finishing off the last of the expensive scotch so that he might blame the warmth beneath his skin on alcohol and not kind words he read too much beneath. It seemed as though the whispers were growing louder as they spoke; he blamed that too on the alcohol and tried to block them out.

But he couldn’t block out the man who stepped closer, leaning in until Will could feel the heat of breath on his ear.

The empath startled, nearly dropping the empty glass as another hand slid around his, taking the crystal tumbler from unsteady fingers, “Did you just smell me?”

Hannibal canted his head, “Difficult to avoid.” His smile was wider now; laced with amusement for a joke Will didn’t yet know the punch line to, “I really must introduce you to a finer aftershave. That smells like something with a ship on the bottle.”

“Matt bought it for me.”

“Ah, a gift. Those are always hard to deny when put in your path.” Hannibal looked thoughtful as he ran his fingers along Will’s own, a reminder that the profiler still held the glass, “Allow me to take this for you.”

Will wordlessly handed it over, trying not to read too much into how Hannibal carefully handled the piece, taking the tumbler while still managing to trace his fingers along Will’s own.

“I do hope you try and enjoy yourself this evening. No matter how unexpected your arrival was, I’m glad you came.” His voice traveled just far enough to meet the closest ears and the soft whispers that had filtered around them before turned into louder ones.

Now Will knew there was something he was missing, something outside his field of expertise that still landed on his radar all the same. The thought was almost distraction enough to have him nearly missing the quick movement of Hannibal coming closer once more. This time in passing, to leave toward the kitchen with both their finished glasses held in one hand. Chest brushing against Will's arm, he was close enough to feel the heat radiating off the doctor and the ghost of breath stirring against his curls.

Up close, when that garish plaid suit wasn’t in his field of vision, Will could say that Hannibal was attractive, more so when he tilted his head, almost coyly. For a wild moment, Will was sure he was going to be kissed, and for that wild moment, he thought he’d have let him. Instead, the doctor delicately smoothed down the collar of Will’s shirt before whispering into his ear, “I believe Matthew is looking for you.”

With that, Hannibal cast one last look to Will and left.

Will took a moment to wonder what the hell was going on and control his speeding heart. He tried not to linger on the cause of elevation. Instead, focusing his keen mind on the matter at hand and the two things he was certain: Dr. Lecter was an odd man with an obvious interest in him and the guests seemed fixated on Will. And, as an investigator, he was not mistaken in thinking the two were connected. Though how one man’s flirtation could cause such commotion among the guests escaped him.

OoOoO

Watching his boyfriend from across the room, it was not without effort that Matthew remained standing by Chilton as he awaited the return of serving staff and his drink.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Were the smooth tactless words of the doctor by his side, “not that I would personally feel threatened by Doctor Lecter if he had a past with my date, but comparatively, I would be feeling a touch of concern if I were in your shoes.” He sipped his wine and Matthew wanted to tip the glass.

“What do you mean ‘past’?” He didn’t take his eyes off Will, watching him take a deep drink of something rich and amber, probably scotch or whiskey, a quiet exchange happening between his boyfriend and the prick trying to charm him. “Will doesn’t have a past with Doctor Lecter.” He watched the man lean in too close and felt his pulse rise, maroon eyes peeking over Will’s shoulder to meet chocolate brown in silent challenge.

It was with great effort indeed that he remained waiting for the server to return.

“You mean he hasn’t told you?” Feigned surprise, a thrill at offering up the bad news to his jealous orderly, “Hidden pasts often leave one wondering how much of the ‘past’ they really are.” His smile widened as he watched skin tighten around Matt's jaw, teeth clenching as eyes narrowed with a jealous growing rage. “Doctor Lecter and Mr. Graham know each other, apparently quite well if you catch my drift.” Fingers flexed by Matthew’s side in a clenching fist, the orderly taking a deep breath as drinks were at last delivered, a pair of sniffers warmed with rye. “If he were my boyfriend, I’d be asking what he has to hide.”

Taking the glasses with a thin lipped smile of thanks to the waiter he tossed his own drink back and returned the glass before leaving to bring Will his own, “Yeah, but you don’t have a boyfriend or a date.” He shot back without looking to see the disgruntled look he knew to be gracing his boss's face.

Will was still staring off after their disappearing host when Matt arrived, pushing the sniffer into his hand with a scowl, “Did you have a nice conversation with the doctor?”

It didn’t’ take a genius to see the man was pissed, even less of one if you suffered from empathy the way Will did, “We discussed the Ripper and Abel Gideon.” He frowned, accepting the glass that had been thrust upon him. “Why are you jealous?”

“Because you’re making me look like an idiot in front of my boss,” He licked his lip, voice low so not to bring any more attention to them than what Will was already attracting on his own. “You never told me you and Lecter had a ‘thing’,” he spat “I didn’t think a past relationship would have been a problem, apparently I was wrong.”

Will looked past Matthew to Frederick Chilton, the doctor watching their encounter with a studious expression as he finished his bubbling drink. “Why are you buying into a rumor you heard from Chilton instead of asking me?” He wasn’t mad, not yet. It was normal for people to get up in arms when they were embarrassed, humiliation turning people ugly. “I met him once in the past, it was nothing.”

“Nothing?” He scoffed, “That’s not the way I heard it. You should’ve told me.” He looked at Will, trying to meet his blue grey eyes, “Was that why you didn’t want to come? Didn’t want the new boyfriend to meet the old one? Not up to your previous standards?” He lifted a hand and waved it half-heartedly to encompass the lavish house.

Will fought back the sigh of defeat; Of course it was that simple, a stupid rumor that linked him to Hannibal for some reason and his happy little relationship was falling to ruins around him. Nothing was ever easy.

“My past relationships don’t affect my current one.” He rubbed his eyes, feeling the beginning of a migraine as he wished again for an aneurysm, “This isn’t a big deal and you know why? Because it isn’t true.” Will was used to having his life ruined by rumors, but those were usually cast by one Freddie Lounds and not his boyfriend’s boss. “I met him once in Alana’s office, that’s it. And even if it was true and we’d had a fling, it wouldn’t matter because I’m with you.”

Matthew almost looked like he was willing to let go of the argument, the clenching of his jaw lessening. Will took the respite to finally throw back whatever liquor Matt had gotten him. When he looked back toward his boyfriend a moment later he couldn’t help noting that his gaze had flitted over his shoulder, a fresh anger shattering the placidity that had been there moments before. Turning to follow the look Will saw Hannibal speaking with Jack Crawford and several judges, if he wasn’t mistaken, not too far away.

That would explain why he hadn’t seen his boss the whole party, though he’d known of Jack’s attendance.

As though having felt the weight of his gaze, those maroon eyes flicked back to look at Will, a coy smile peeking through in greeting before his attention was called back by that of Jack. It was just shy of flirtatious and had Will spinning back to face the man once again raging before him.

He really didn’t need this in his life. The one time he finally found himself in a fairly normal relationship, he had someone else interested. Where was Hannibal when Will was single? Alone at home with seven dogs for company and a bottle of cheap whiskey? He sure as hell hadn’t seemed interested when they had barely shook hands in Alana’s office.

He didn’t know what bothered him more. That Hannibal hadn’t found him interesting before or that Will didn’t know what was so different as to draw the socialite to him now. But meeting eyes with Matt he could see the shared look had not gone unnoticed, nor his silent musing.  

Matt looked truly angry, his hands curled at his sides, a sharp tic along his jaw. He finally spoke, “Talk to me when you’re willing to tell me the truth Will, maybe I’ll listen.” He stalked off into the whispering crowd before the profiler could so much as open his mouth.

Looking forlornly into his empty glass he strode over to a waiter, depositing the tumbler on their tray before setting out to explore the doctor’s home. It’d be a cold day in hell before he tried to speak to any of these guests to discover the truth of the rumor.

As he walked away, he could hear the soft murmurs of whispers follow in his wake. He was glad he’d had the two stronger drinks on an empty stomach, the pleasant buzz of good liquor taking the edge off of his horrible night.

In an attempt to avoid bumping the wait staff as they filtered in and out of the kitchen with drink trays, Will took his time to hug the wall, pressing himself against the hallway as he looked for someplace quite to duck and clear his head for a moment without the sound of hushed whispers and liquored voices following him.

It was as he stood there back against the wall that he felt the cool metal of a door knob touch his hand and took the chance to slip away. Rude to explore, but a necessary evil if ever there was one to escape the drama that had claimed his life.

He was met with darkness and cold, his hand sliding along the wall to find the light switch easy enough and reveal stairs leading toward the depths of the monstrous house. Buzzed and curious he descended those stairs, throwing caution to the wind as he entered.

Darkness claimed the basement once more as he exited the stairwell. Another light needed to illuminate the grand room he stood within. Inching his fingers along the wall once more, he found the second switch and walked further into the house’s depths beneath florescent lights. Pushing through the hanging strips of plastic, he finally took stock of his surroundings.

It wasn’t what he’d expected to find.

With slow measured steps Will followed the line of the counter, taking careful stock of the multiple saws laid out across it. He recognized a few of them, hand saw, hacksaw, table saw, drop saw, bone saw…and judging by the layout they weren’t being used for any amount of wood craft. He stopped at the sink situated perfectly next to the drop saw, an ideal spot for butchering, with a switch at its side for the garbage disposal at its center.

It made his cock twitch when he ran his finger along that blade.

“It’s rude to wander.” He turned to find the sight of his host standing loose limbed by the light switch, the shadows of the basement encompassing him in darkness like a shroud. Will had stumbled upon his secret and now he would have to die.

Or not.

“I like your kill room,” Will said with most genuine smile he’d worn all night, his stormy eyes skimming the walls of medical instruments used for rendering flesh and ending lives instead of saving them. “It’s nicer than Matt’s; he does his work where he kills; out in the open, more pedestrian.” The smile he offered Hannibal could be described as nothing short of flirtatious, the first return for the killer’s advances he’d allowed all night. “But then again I would expect nothing less from the Ripper.”

It was in that moment that Hannibal truly understood the meaning of the word _desire_. He had never craved the flesh of another beneath his hands as he craved for this man in that moment, “You think I’m the Ripper?”

Will let his eyes fall from the assortment of toys to rise up the form of the powerful predator stalking toward him. Hannibal exuded power like a king among killers. “I know you’re the Ripper. I can see it in your house and in your abattoir,” he indicated the kill room and its many deadly toys. “I love your work,” he continued, taking a step toward his host. “You make art from swine, take the garbage of humanity and elevate them into masterpieces worthy of something in death they could never have been in life. You give something beautiful back to the world upon removing something foul.” He stopped perhaps a bit too close to the lion in the room, his own fangs showing now in turn. “I follow your cases, study them.” But not for Jack, only under the guise of Jack, he read them like a love letter, his heart made to flutter in his chest and mouth water as he witnessed the deconstruction and reconstruction of something beautiful in his mind’s eye again and again.

At one time the mirth he felt from violence had scared him.

It didn’t scare him anymore.

“My favorite dates are the ones where Matt lets me watch.” He wet his lips as he reminded them both that he had a boyfriend, less they forget and do something Will might find regrettable.

Hannibal wanted to do something he doubted he would find regrettable at all. “You like to watch?” he watched the dart of tongue over full lips he desperately wanted to render with a kiss. “Perhaps you would like to accompany me in the future; join me for dinner.”

Will’s smile grew, “Is that where you’ve been keeping your trophies?” his breath hitched, pupils dilating with a growing lust as he imagined the food being served upstairs. “If I’d known we were having banker for dinner,” he thought back to the latest string of victims, “I would have skipped lunch.”

Hannibal had never been so aroused in his life.

“Did you follow me right after?” Will asked stepping away from the subject of his long time fascination.

The doctor took a moment to process the question, debating his answer, “Yes, I did. I thought you might have been upset and wanted to offer my support if I could.”

“Yes, I’m sure just support.” Will snorted. “I couldn’t understand why you were so interested in me now and not when we first met. But it’s because you hadn’t been following me before were you? You've been reading  _Tattle Crime;_  followed your cases, followed the profiler who can read you like a book. This is the first time we’ve truly met.” He smiled, satisfied to at last have the pieces falling into place, “You saw the full extent of my profiling ability and I finally saw you.” He took a moment to look around the room, eyes lingering on the equipment, feeling elated at the turn of events.

“And do you like what you see?”

The empath moved through the hanging plastic, obstructed and visible at once. “I like you well enough. But I think I like the Ripper more.” He quickly moved upstairs, leaving Hannibal in his kill room, surrounded by concrete and plastic.

It would be far too easy to do something regrettable.  
  


OoOoO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Your kudos are eating d'oeuvres hiding under the tables, your comments are starting rumors and drinking expensive scotch.
> 
> The authors are locked in the liquor cabinet and hoping not to be found 'cause they're drinking all the wine.


	3. May The Best Monster Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!
> 
> Thank you everyone who gave this story a chance, we had a hell of a great time writing it and hopefully it will be the first of many more to come in the future. C:
> 
> On with the show!
> 
> We own nothing.
> 
> Not Beta Read.

Alana tapped her fingernails in an irritated rhythm against the crystal of her champagne flute, ocean blue eyes watching as Frederick Chilton moved through the numerous crowds of guests spreading his inaccurate gossip like a plague.

She had been enjoying her evening conversing in several such groups when the doctor would amble up, asking if anyone had seen Hannibal or Will with a feign of innocent curiosity that made her want to pour her rather nice champagne on his all Italian leather shoes. Someone always answer him with a smile, indicating the men in question without any inclination as to what they were about to invite, creating the opening for Chilton and his poisonous words every time. He would follow their gaze, hum as he took in the victims of his rumors and slide easily into discussing the scandalous affair the two had partaken in the past.

It always led to his curious announcement of they’re both being present, seeking each others company at a party in which Will had attended with his boyfriend, an orderly of his, Matthew Brown. He'd sip his champagne looking meaningfully toward the group with a curious lift of brows before wondering out loud if perhaps the two weren't still dancing around each other, before meandering off.

She had been in a deep discussion with a former professor and several grad students when Chilton joined the latest group, forcing her to endure the experience for the third time. “Excuse me, not to interrupt, but has anyone seen Dr. Lecter this evening? William Graham?” He carefully asked as though for the first time that evening.

Enough was enough. She managed to interject, "Dr. Chilton, if I could speak with you privately for a moment? I have a question about some of your research."

"Oh,” He appeared flattered, “of course Dr. Bloom." Excusing herself from a far more pleasant conversation she led the doctor away, bringing what would be a private discussion to a more secluded side wall.

She rounded on him almost instantly, voice falling to a harsh whisper, "You need to stop spreading rumors about Hannibal.  Especially at his own party!"

Chilton’s laugh was soft, almost dismissive, "Is that what you think? That I'm merely spreading rumors? I'll have you know that Dr. Lecter told me himself how he and Will had been involved. He even alluded that Will was his most satisfying sexual experiences to date."  

Alana clutched her teeth to spare the glass, "You don't have the best track record lately for speaking the truth Dr. Chilton. So forgive my lacking faith in anything you have to say." She was well on her way to truly being furious.

"Forgive me if I don't care of your opinion of me, especially when there has already been talk of you and Hannibal from when he was your mentor.” The cork of a brow, a curious smile, “Did you have that affair? I wonder if it would hurt more if he broke it off or that it didn't even start. And then there's William; you rejected him and he's flourishing with Matthew. Is it so hard to accept that a man of Dr. Lecter's caliber pursued him and appears to continue to do so? Or is it simply a matter that he didn't deem you of the same value?"  

She looked mortified, an angry blush covering her pale skin. "Rude!  Shockingly rude!" Alana glanced around, noticing the few glances she had gained with the raised volume of her indignation. She lowered her voice, "It's a matter of you spreading misinformation. I've known both of them for a period of time and they've only met once. I would have known if they were...together. I speak to both of them regularly."

He looked across the room, his eyes moving back to her, "You can't know everything about a person unless they tell you Dr. Bloom. But I wouldn't get too hung up on Dr. Lecter's affairs and the lack of yours."

Will Graham walked quickly by them, easily dodging the servers that were coming out of the kitchen.

Alana startled, following his trek through the crowd. Irritably she responded, "And I have a feeling you're going to tell me why."

Hannibal moved less discretely through his guests, nearly pushing through in his haste to follow Will.  

Chilton sipped at his champagne, looking victorious. "Because I think you lack the parts for his proclivities."

She watched amazed as Hannibal left, following Will's trail toward the kitchen. Alana threw back what was left of her own drink before leaving to get another. She'd need it to get through the night.

In what fresh hell was Chilton ever right? They'd never hear the end of it.

OoOoO

It was probably senseless to bait a predator, but he wanted to see how much of the Ripper he could draw out from the man in that ridiculous plaid suit.

Will slipped in through the kitchen and tried to maintain his composure. For once he felt near impulsive. He had an image of the Ripper in his head, which he’d shared with Jack as simply a regular man that could hide in plain sight. But he was so much more than that. There was elegance to his work and finding out he was a man like Hannibal Lecter was vindicating. Only a man with a harpsichord in his living room casually drinking 50 year old Macallan scotch would have been able to live up to his ideal of one of the most prolific serial killers on the Eastern seaboard.

He was almost felt star struck.

Entering the soiree, he noticed the conversations stilling, a moment of suspense before returning to the hushed whispers they had been before he’d left. Will knew everyone had to have come up with outlandish ideas about Hannibal chasing him after having a heated discussion with Matthew. In fact, Will took his time to search for Matt, hoping to at least try to have a civilized discussion. He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted anymore; so few times did he actually get what he wanted. But he was willing to at least try and repair the fractured relationship. At the very least, he owed it to his boyfriend to clear up the rumors he must have heard while both men had disappeared.

Will discovered it was easier to find Mathew than he’d been expecting. He found Will first. Grabbing him tightly by the bicep he dragged him towards the front door. “We’re leaving,” he managed to grit out as he pulled Will through the crowd.

He tried to keep dignified as he scrambled to match his boyfriend’s quick pace. “Wait. Would you just listen to me---”

They were nearly to the foyer when Hannibal’s voice cut through the room, “I believe Will is more than capable of deciding for himself whether he wishes to stay or go, he doesn’t need you making that decision for him.”

The grip on Will’s arm tightened before letting go. Matthew had that careful stillness about him Will recognized from his other more confident persona; a killer. Matt turned around, loosening his joints and tightening up his calves in careful deliberateness. While Will knew Matthew would never be violent towards himself, other people were an entirely different matter. And Hannibal Lecter seemed to be caught in his path.

“Will made his decision, he chose me.” He wet his twisted lip with the dart of a tongue. “I think you need to learn to let go of the past Doctor, before I make you.”

Hannibal strode fully into the room, carefully unbuttoning his suit jacket. “Where were you if you cared so much for him? I found Will alone in one of my private rooms,” he countered with a salacious pull of lips, allowing rumors fill in the rest for him.

Will couldn’t help but be impressed by the easy manner Hannibal twisted the truth. It was no wonder the Ripper had yet to be caught.

Where Will had been impressed, Matthew made furious.

He launched himself at the doctor, a few quickly sprinted steps closing the distance between the two men in less than a breath, a punch laden with every ounce of hidden strength impacting Hannibal to knock him back.

He hit the table, glasses and plats shattering as the displays were knocked to the floor. Wiping the blood from his chin he looked to Will, a meaningful smirk pulling his flesh of his broken lip to cause more blood to flow.

Will’s breath caught in his throat as he realize what he saw as Matt caught Hannibal’s tie at the throat to hood him still as he kneed him in the ribs.

Hannibal was letting it happen.

For some reason, he wasn’t fighting back. Not even when he was thrown to the floor, the enraged orderly laying into him with exacted kicks.

A cough of blood over hardwood, the curl of a body Will knew to be lean and powerful over itself and for one moment he held that deep maroon gaze. The look he saw there was not one of pain, but one of triumph.

The crowd of guests surged forward to watch, obstructing Will’s view, abandoning their civility momentarily. Not that it mattered, he couldn’t even move from his place on the side of the room, watching as the chaos unfolded, people running past him and out the door as others ran closer to the sounds of the largely one-sided fight. Will almost smiled, as he wondered what Hannibal was up to.

He could see Chilton and Alana trying to get closer, to watch or intervene respectively. He could hear yelling, noticed when the guests began to scramble out of the way, pushing and shoving to the sides of the room, knocking furniture to the ground.

With his view unobstructed, Will could see a bloody Hannibal leaning heavy against a table as Matthew advanced with a knife, one from the numerous serving stations in the room.

Words weren’t needed as he grabbed onto the collar of Hannibal’s shirt, pulling him up right with the knife held point to his chest, he looked as though he was ready to gut him. He had to intervene.

Before Will could push through the crowd Jack was there, running over to tackle Matthew to the ground and knock the knife from his hand to slid across the floor.

“You’re under arrest for attempted murder,” Jack yelled, pulling handcuffs from his belt to snap with finality around the killers wrists.

Will was almost impressed until Jack looked over his shoulder to the group of judges he had been speaking to most of the evening.

Well, sometimes it wasn’t the thought that counted, but the results. Hannibal was still in one piece, more or less, and Jack was able to impress a few people with weight to pull.

All's well that ends well and all that bullshit.

The sound of sirens echoed through the house. Most of the guests had retreated to the front lawn at the sight of a knife, making it easy for the numerous police officers and paramedics to find the house. Matthew was dragged to his feet, clothes and knuckles stained with the doctor’s blood as read his rights and led away, his only resistance shown as he passed Will, looking at him with dread.

“I don’t think this is going to work out Matt,” was all Will could offer. “You didn’t listen to me or trust me.”

Matthew looked resigned as he was dragged out.

But Will couldn’t dwell on that. Instead he walked to Hannibal, already being loaded on a gurney surrounded by paramedics. Several officers were talking with the few guests that remained, Alana and Chilton offering statements. But he ignored all of that, focused on the gash on Hannibal’s lip and split skin on his nose, the bruising he knew would be along his jaw, on his ribs underneath that awful suit.

“I’m surprised you let them put you on this.”

He was met with a smile, “They’re insisting on x-rays to check for broken bones; this seems to be their standard procedure.”

Not knowing what else to say but feeling that intense gaze upon him, Will looked toward the open door, watching the blue and red flashing of police car lights and shadows of guests departing.

“I guess I’ll go---”

“No, you should come with me to the hospital,” There was a light in his eyes, a genuine desire for Will’s company. “It’ll be dreadfully boring. And I would think you would want to make amends for your boyfriend.”

Will nearly scoffed but managed to control his rising ire. “I don’t control his actions, and you can’t blame me for a situation you created. In fact, I’m not responsible at all,” there was a pause, a pull of lips, “and he isn’t my boyfriend anymore.”

That caused a visible reaction, Hannibal tilting his head to view Will more fully, “Oh? Such a shame.”

Will stilled, watching as that triumphant look took hold again.

Oh that, that was genius. Will supposed he brought this on himself, issuing the challenge that he still preferred the Ripper to Hannibal. The blatant manipulation of Matthew as he attempted to leave with Will, the one-sided fight that ensured the orderly would be forced out of the picture with several members of law enforcement in attendance, an assured arrest.

The fact that he had broken up with is boyfriend was just a spectacular bonus. Probably advancing the doctor’s schedule of complete victory.

No one but the Ripper could have manipulated a chain of events so effortlessly, provided the perfect tableau for the end of the night. A jealous boyfriend attacking an ex in his own home; a domestic dispute that was more than what it seemed. Two killers fighting over a man that could truly see them; understand them in a way they would never again find in another and be expected for it. And that was something Will would have to reconcile, the elegant killer and the refined man before him. For too long, the Ripper was a faceless and perfect ideal. But this monster in a person suite before him was someone that he had wanted for too long and now could actually have.

“I’ll go with you to the hospital.”

Hannibal’s smile was full of teeth stained with blood.

Off to the side where witnesses were giving their statements, Alana Bloom was once again at the mercy of Chilton as he regaled an officer of the night's events and how a past affair wasn't so much in the past at all.

She sighed, but smiled as she saw Will follow Hannibal to an ambulance.   

OoOoO

“Thank you for coming, the company is appreciated.” Hannibal smiled from where he reclined in his hospital bed.

Will shrugged from where he sat in a chair at its side. “It only seemed fair, I don’t feel bad for you having the shit kicked out of you by my ex,” a phrase he had never thought he’d hear himself say, “you did that to yourself, but I was flattered that you went to such lengths to gain my attention.” He smiled a little at the memory of a bloody smile just for him.

Like a school boy trying to impress a girl, who thought the Ripper could be so foolish?

A hand extended toward him and Will accepted it, allowing the doctor to tug him up onto the bed. He took a seat on its edge, careful of the bed railing and bruising that covered the older man’s body. “Were you impressed by the Ripper trying to win you affections?” he pulled that captured hand toward his lips and touched knuckles with a kiss, it made Will smile, crooked and awkward as his attention was stolen by this better predator.

“I was impressed by the man manipulating a crowd to get my attention. The Ripper won my affections long ago.” Elusive blue grey eyes turned to find maroon, a swell of emotion filling the empath as he drank in the longing he saw within them. “What drew you to me?”

“To be honest I knew your name before Frederick Chilton introduced us.” He tugged the young profiler farther up the bed, disregarding the stab of pain that moved through him as another body crawled over his own. “Thanks to Ms. Lounds' blog, I’ve read quite a bit about you over the last few months.”

Will’s crooked smile seemed to grow as he straddled the older man’s legs, turning his face into the palm that cradled his cheek to catch skin between teeth in a gentle bite. “I don’t’ see how that would be any reason to pursue me,” he laughed, almost nervous as he released the hand to be tugged closer again; broad hands sliding down his sides to settle on the curve of his ass. “I think that would better warn you that I’m damaged goods.”

“There’s nothing ‘damaged’ about you.” Another tug and their lips are but a breath apart, “People fear that which they do not understand, you are unique in your understanding of others and it is that individuality that has drawn us to each other.”

They met in a chaste kiss, the hands that held him giving a gentle squeeze to the firm mound of Will’s ass. “That’s the nicest way someone has ever called me crazy.” Will murmured earning another harsher kiss before the cloth of his pants was tugged over the mound of his ass revealing warm skin to the cool hospital air.

“We are not crazy William, we are perfectly aware of what we are doing and the consequences of our actions.” Will wasn’t sure what he was feeling press between his cheeks, there hadn’t been anything he could see within sight or hand for the doctor to be greasing his fingers with, yet the feeling of cold slick fingers pushed between the mounds anyway.

He made a soft sound of discomfort, “What is that?” He didn’t want to look in fear of finding the red jello container open for impromptu lube.

Another digit pressed to join the first, long fingers scissoring his opening into a proper stretch with long soothing strokes to his inside. “I lifted a packet of medical lubricant from the examination room.” He added a third and watched as Will’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp of pleasure and pain, fingers knotting in the fabric of his hospital gown as he took them to the knuckle.

He could have laughed, should have left and held on tighter as he dipped his hips to encourage the long stroking thrusts of fingers buried deep within. “You planned this?” His smile was edged with humor and lust.

“Hoped, I couldn’t plan that you would co-operate.” He tugged the profiler a fraction higher, shoving the blankets to his knees and pushed his hospital gown to the side to reveal his swelling cock to cool hospital air. With a quick smear of the remaining lube he pressed the engorged head against Will’s wet hole. “Now that I have you, I’m all too happy that I did.”

Will took a breath, slow and deep as he eased himself onto the waiting cock. It pushed at his entrance, breaching him slowly with a girth much larger than he’d anticipated.

It would seem even in this Matt had come up second.

With a shaky gasp he skewered himself, broad hands taking his hips to guide him to the root. “Me too, I thought you were going to use jello.” He would have laughed if he wasn’t straining to adjust to the girth inside him.

Hannibal made a disapproving sound deep in his throat as he held the profiler steady, “Uncouth.” He tugged the skinny hips in hand and Will began to follow, rising to draw a groan from them both. “Food products, if that’s what you would like to call _that_ ,” his tone was almost scolding for the poor cherry flavored gelatin, “Is not a suitable lubrication for coitus. If anything I would have substituted the butter pack for my toast.”

Will nodded, more amused then maybe he should have been as he skewered himself again, the head of his cock brushing against the bundle of nerves that made his back arch and lips part in a moan all at once.

It was a beautiful sight, a sound he would force from him again and again over the many days he knew would be shared between them, but for now it was one that would cause the profiler torment. “I’m afraid I must ask you to restrain yourself.” He smiled a sadist's smile and rolled his hips, making Will’s breath catch in his throat and another small noise escape him. “If you’re too loud, you’ll attract the attention of one of the nurses.”

This time Will did laugh, breathless and gasping as he rolled his hips to draw a hiss of pleasure from the tormenting man beneath him. Two could play at that game. “Then should we wait? Save this for a time when you’re feeling more up to it?” He bit his lip to stifle another groan.

Hannibal could not deny his love for every moment he was taking the younger man apart, feeling the heat of flesh beneath the palm of his hands and shift of body above him. He was beautiful, physically and mentally, felt beautiful wrapped around him. “I think we should finish what we’ve started dear Will,” Another roll of hips to make his breath hitch and body tense, “I believe I’ve worked more than hard enough to have earned that much.”

Will rose again, lifting his weight on knees trapped between bedrail and body. He had watched the Ripper for so long, admiring his works of death and art. He had wanted to meet him for longer than he’d been trying to catch him and would never have anticipated the killer trying to lure him in return.

It made every thrust into his body that much sweeter. “You think so?” he plunged himself back onto the cock and shuttered at the surge of pleasure that flooded him, “I suppose you did get my ex arrested.” A hand left his hip to stroke his cheek and he turned into the warmth of the palm, taking the flesh between his teeth and to suck on the skin. He groaned aloud, forcing himself quiet when he moved again, increased their rhythm as he worked the cock inside, concentrated on silencing himself to quiet, breathy groans.

All he wanted to do was scream for his new lover.

“Would you join me for dinner?” He smiled up at the profiler who looked back at him with lust blown eyes, his cheeks flushed with arousal, hair disheveled, a light sheen of sweat touching his skin and the flesh of his palm pinched between teeth in an effort to still Will's voice.

It made him want to ruin him. Throw this younger man beneath him and fuck him into the mattress.

Another gasp, head lulling back as he held hips still to grind his cock against the bundle of nerves buried inside again and force another sound from full bow lips he wanted desperately to claim, render and bruise with mouth and teeth.

“Who will you be serving?” he clenched his tight heat around the tormenting flesh and earned a louder groan from the Ripper. “No one too fatty I hope.” Another sound escaped him when Hannibal chose to ignore the throbbing pain of bruised muscle and bone to lift his hips and meet Will in each staggering thrust. It sent him reeling, made the pressure building deep within surge with a need for release.

Hannibal found his own voice forced from him in tandem with Will’s, breathy groans falling from \lips as he felt muscles tighten around him as Will’s peak was found. The profiler cried out as the evidence of his pleasure painted Hannibal’s chest in hot spurts, staining the hospital gown with streaks of white.

The sound of the hospital door opening and a clip board falling to the ground had both men grinning.

It was the beginning to a beautiful relationship.

OoOoO

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~<3
> 
> Your kudos are playing race car with ambulances, your comments are eating jello and watching cannibal smut.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank for reading!
> 
> Your kudos are singing karaoke in the corner to opera music, your comments are trying the shrimp puffs. C:


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